7 Minutes In Heaven
by Pieequals36
Summary: Sam and Freddie have a game. One-shot.


_You taste just like glitter, mixed with rock n roll, I like you a lot, think you're really hot hot/baby is a bad boy with some retro sneakers, lets go see the Killers and make out in the bleachers_

Sam could hear the hollering and wolf whistling as she spun in circles, a red silk blind fold shielding her vision of the thumping crowd. She felt dizzy, but pleasantly so, her lips curving into a smile, her arms instinctively reaching out to steady her wobbling form. The crowd began to chant her name as she spun faster, and just when she thought she could no longer spin without falling down a pair of steady arms caught her and she hit the hard wall of someone's chest.

The crowd went quiet, eerily so, and she could hear a nervous giggle from her best friend. It was only now, pressed up to a male form, blindfold still binding her eyes that she realised she hadn't moved or spoken in around thirty seconds. As she reached for the blind fold she felt a hand bat hers away and undo the loose knot behind her head, allowing the garment to float onto her shoulder. Her vision was foggy, and she shook her head, focusing her gaze on a deep brown set of eyes.

A _very_ familiar set.

A set that often stared at her, as a result of a beating or relentless teasing.

A set that had stared at her right before she had her first kiss.

A set that had watched her all of prom night as she danced, laughed and joked with her date.

Fredward Benson's eyes.

Another giggle and she turned to glare at Carly. Her hand was playing with her mouth, her face watching her friends carefully. There was an expression that Sam couldn't read, something she struggled to comprehend. Tearing her eyes away from her best friend she glanced around at everyone else in the tight circle. Many were chuckling quietly, a few whispering under their breath. Many simply stared, anticipating the tantrum that they now expected. She finally turned back to Freddie, who was biting the inside of his lip, as if waiting for some form of physical punishment for merely catching her before she fell.

_Why did it have to be him? _

Sam was willing to roll with the punches. She gave a sly grin to the crowd, winking before she clasped her hand around Freddie's wrist and dragged him into the dark closet, the door shutting with a resounding bang.

She stood in the darkness, listening to the crowd outside. They stayed hushed for a while but soon the music resumed and the party chatted happily amongst themselves. She had an image of Carly standing behind the door waiting with that all judging, all knowing look on her face. She laughed at the thought and the sound vibrated through the darkness. It was then she was reminded of why she was so nervous. She heard a shuffle and felt an arm brush against hers, causing goose bumps on her pallid skin. He coughed and shuffled some more. In the darkness it was hard to decipher the boys expression. All she could see was a faint glisten of glassy eyes in the sharp light emulating from a crack in the door.

"So...." he started, coughing again. She knew damn well the boy wasn't dying of swine flu and his nervous noise making was starting to grate on her.

"Let's get this over with Benson. Keep your hands where I can see 'em," she instructed. She pounced pulling her body flush with his and pressing her lips harshly against his mouth. She moved, wiggled, teased with her tongue but he stayed unmoving grunting, and pushing her back. This pissed her off. She was a perfectly hot piece of ass. The nerd should consider himself lucky she's allowing him to swap saliva with her.

Again.

"Sam," he mumbled, pushing her a little more forcefully. She detached herself and he could imagine her glaring at him, arms crossed.

"Dude. I just wanna get this over with."

"We don't have to, they wouldn't even know," he told her. The hormonal teenager in his head was screaming at him to shut the hell up. But Freddie was not about to make out with his friend.

Again.

No matter how much his body wanted to.

"You turning me down Benson?" Her eyes narrowed.

"No, Sam no," he repeated, emphatically. "It's just...why do something that makes us wanna puke...right?"

He was met with silence. Deathly silence. Then a gulp.

"Whatever."

Her voice was toneless. Void of any emotion that would allow Fredward Benson to finally gain any insight into the working mind of Miss Puckett. She was like getting a jigsaw puzzle that lacked any image. There was no way of figuring her out.

"Ok so, what ya wanna do instead?"

"Wait it out."

He blew out air and leaned against the shelf, the wood digging uncomfortably into his back.

"Hows things been?"

"What do you mean Fudgeface?"

"I mean with you. I heard your dad called."

"Carly?" she seethed, making a mental note to smash a banana into her friends hair later.

"Don't blame her," he said reading the atmosphere like a barometer, "I asked where you were and she said you were having lunch with your dad. It just came out."

"Yeah well I just might let it out that she kissed Jessica Bradshaw at her 17th birthday."

She heard Freddie let out some sort of strangled cry and she rolled her eyes.

"Relax Benson, it was all very PG. Lips closed and all. Just a dare."

"I wasn't imagining it!" he cried.

"Sure."

"I wasn't."

"Well I just wanna make sure you don't get too excited in here, wouldn't want you to suddenly come over all manly and take me against the door," she said, deadpan. But somehow, in a way she hadn't expected the suggestion hung between them heavy in the air. She swore she felt him move slightly closer before she heard him creak against the wood on the other side of the closet once more.

"Anyway," he choked out, "How did it go?"

"How did what go?"

"The lunch date, with your father," he reminded, quickly steering them back on topic.

"How did you..."

"Carly."

"Of course. I forgot she's my very own information line. Like when you buy a game and wanna get cheats and tips."

"Did you just compare yourself to a video game?"

She shrugged in the darkness, her finger toying with a scarf on the back of the door. Silence fell between them again. Freddie didn't want to push it. He'd like to come out of the closet with limbs intact. But he was surprised when she spoke again, softly in almost a whisper.

"It didn't go so good."

"No?"

"Nope. Like everything else in my father's life the lunch date was messy, emotional and full of physical fighting."

He cringed at the image of Sam being struck by her father. He knew she wanted him to think it was the other way round but he knew better. He could tell from her tone, the softness and disappointment in her voice.

"Sorry Sam."

"You didn't make my dad a jackass."

"Yeah but still."

Silence again.

"What about your dad Benson?"

"What about him?"

"Well where the hell is he? Did he stay with the travelling freak circus you were born into?"

Freddie chuckled. She had all the sensitivity of a rock. He slid down onto the floor and he was more than a little surprised when she joined him, her shoulder bumping off his.

"I don't know my dad."

"You've never met him?"

"Never."

"Do you know what he looks like?"

"Nope. But I bet that's where I get my devilishly handsome good looks."

She cocked an eyebrow, and he could make out her lips curling into smile. For once she didn't have a sharp comeback. She let him have this one.

"Why did your dad leave?"

"Him and my Mom were both drunks. Still are. Both drove each other crazy. Plus he said that having me and Melanie ruined their lives and he didn't wanna stick around anymore. So one day I got up, went down stairs and there he was. Putting his bags in the boot like some corny ass movie. I even tried to stop him. Was rewarded with a slap to the mouth. I looked for him a few times. Eventually I just gave up. I learned quickly. Melanie and him still talk though. I think he loves her. Who doesn't, she is the perfect one."

"Dude. Your dad's jackass."

Sam chuckled, a dry sound that he wasn't used to.

"So am I."

"Nah. You're just misunderstood," he teased, bumping against her. "Deep down you love Barbies and ponies like every other girl."

"I'd rather slit my own wrists."

They sat there, in the dark, arms brushing, his thigh pressed against hers. Her hormones buzzed through her, pulsating down her wrists, up her throat. She hated what they subjected to her. Any boy (and in some rare cases girl) was subject to such fantasies. Even the dork.

"Do you think that's what makes us fucked up?" she asked, breaking the palpable tension.

"What do you mean?"

"You being in love with a girl who'll never love you, me being in love with anyone who's mean to me. Is it a case of "Daddy-leaving" syndrome?"

"You're not fucked up Puckett."

She raised both eyebrows, examining her hands.

"Well ok. Maybe a little bit. But not in a bad way."

"There's a good way?"

"When it comes to you. Yes."

The shock of his fingers grazing over her knuckles, jolted her out of her daze, and her eyes widened as he caressed and tickled the back of her hand. Never before had the boy been so brazen. He didn't dare. But somehow, sitting in a dark closet with no witnesses the boy found courage? He was brave. Not at all smart. But brave. She liked that.

"I have never played this game properly," he murmured, staring down at their now entwined hands.

"It's all I ever play," she replied, leaning her head towards his.

His hand moved to her bare thigh, his fingers dancing on her skin. "Slut."

She grinned.

"Virgin."

"Not exactly true, but I can live with it."

She smirked, cocking her head sideways, considering him.

"Lets de-virginise you then Benson."

She pulled him into her for the second time in the closet but this time their lips met in a heady graze, kissing, licking and biting.

"We don't..."

Kiss.

"Speak of...."

Nibble.

"This."

He acknowledged her by pressing his lips to a particularly sensitive spot on her neck and she groaned, tilting backwards. More bravery from the nerd; his hand began pushing up the layers of t-shirts and smoothing along her slim middle.

"Guys!" a voice came with a sharp knock on the door.

"Hmm?" Freddie replied, tearing his lips from Sam's.

"Seven minutes is up, wanna give someone else a go?"

The chuckles from outside meant that for the entire party they would probably be the butt of everyone's jokes. Not to mention endless questions. She stood up in one swift motion leaving her top riding high on her ribcage as she pushed open the door to the crowd.

"Sam your top!" he hissed from the floor. She winked and stepped outside, pulling her top down in front of everyone

Many hollered and cheered. Many more congratulated Freddie as he followed her out. He would never understand Sam Puckett, he realised this as she pushed him away roughly, announcing to the crowd that it was "the nerds next ten birthday presents rolled into one".

Especially considering that they'd been playing seven minutes in heaven privately since prom.

He guessed that it was because they were so fucked up.

Daddy-leaving syndrome. It affected them in odd ways.

**_A/N: _**There's probably so many typo's in this. It's cos I don't have a beta. I gots to finds me one :) Anyway please read and review. Reviews make me smile more than chocolate and teaching my puppy how to wave hello.


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